Broken Bird Song
by BigTimeRush-BTR
Summary: Moving to a new town and being forced to go to a new school is never easy, and for Logan Mitchell, it's more than he bargained for. But perhaps, a new start isn't such a bad thing after all.


**Hi guys. :) I'm really excited to post this, because this is a story I'm writing with my friend, Sarah (swagUPwindowsDOWN). We wrote a one-shot together a few months ago, and it really helped us with our writing, so we decided to write this together as well. We hope you enjoy. :)**

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"Honey, you can't keep isolating yourself simply because you're afraid of talking to people first. Not everyone is a bad person, and not everyone will treat you badly," Mrs. Mitchell said as she stared at her 15-year-old son. Logan's eyes, however, remained looking down at his bowl of cereal, which he seemed thoroughly fascinated by.

Logan sighed, loosening his grip on his spoon and shifting his eyes towards his mother's, frowning slightly. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he mumbled.

 _You don't understand_ , he thought bitterly to himself, wishing she would stop staring at him with pitiful eyes. _It's more than just fear. You don't know what it's like for me. How it feels!_

Mrs. Mitchell sighed as she stood up from her chair and walked over to the brunet. "We gotta go soon, so don't take too much longer, alright? Remember, this is a new start and will be different from your old school. There's no need to worry."

Logan simply nodded in response and watched her leave the kitchen. He quickly ate his cereal, and when he was done, moved to grab his backpack from the floor. "Okay, I'm ready," he said as he swung it over his shoulder. _As ready as I'll ever be, anyway._

* * *

Fear – it enveloped him, choked him, left him feeling utterly helpless.

Logan felt like he could have suffocated three times over on the car ride over to the school, yet being in front of it was much worse than he could have ever imagined. He didn't like it, he really didn't like it and he wanted to go home now and curl up in bed until it was dinnertime. But his counselor had advised him that that was not a productive thing to do.

He gripped the door handle with white knuckles as he tried to calm his heart rate and settle his breathing, but made no move to actually get out of the car. His legs were shaking and his lip trembling at the mere thought of stepping out onto the concrete paving that led up to the doors of death.

His mom waited for a few minutes, silently watching and waiting to see if he would make a decision on his own. She had been told that it was best to not interfere for a few moments to give her son the chance to overcome his nerves by himself, which hadn't actually worked yet, but she hoped it would soon. It was slightly doubtful though, considering he couldn't even go into the corner store and buy a carton of milk. She didn't want to think about that experience again.

Sighing to herself, she placed a hand on his knee, sadly not surprised when he jumped at her touch. He looked over to her and she gave him her best reassuring smile.

"Come on, sweetie, you'll be okay. It's going to be fine."

"Please Mom," Logan started, eyes widening as he gripped the hand on his knee with both of his, "please don't make me do this. I don't want to do this. I'll study at home; you know I'm serious about school. I can take one of the online courses and—"

"But that's not what's best for you, is it? That's not going to help you out in the long run. Yes, you can study perfectly well on your own, but that's not what we're trying to combat, is it? I'm sorry, honey, but this the way. We have to do it."

"Please…" but he knew that she wouldn't be swayed. His mother was a strong woman and firm in what she believed in.

"I've emailed the school counselor. She knows about your…situation…"

"Mom, that'll make things worse!" he could feel his panic begin to rise further at the idea of others knowing his personal issues, checking up on him, being in his face all the time and making him feel cornered. Pretending to care.

"She's a nice woman, Logan. I've heard excellent things about her and she's very understanding. Now, how's about you go in there and try this out, yeah? I can come too if you would like."

He felt incredibly silly and childish, but he didn't think he could do this without someone else there. He felt as if he was either going to puke or cry. Or both.

But just then, as if someone were watching and making sure that Logan had the worst day possible, his mother's phone rang.

"Hello? Andrew, I told you I was going to come in late this morning, it's a bit important…They're demanding I go? It's not even my area…come on, Andrew, can't you take it?"

"It's okay, Mom," his mom was a real estate agent and worked shifts that fit in with his school hours. But sometimes, she would get a call like this and would have to work overtime. It didn't happen a lot, but he knew that his mom's work was very important. It was how they kept a roof over their heads and put food in their mouths.

"But honey," Mrs Mitchell put a hand over the speaker so that she could fully focus on her son, "what are you going to do? You'll have to go in alone."

He took a big breath and exhaled loudly. He nodded at her. "Go, I'll manage."

"Okay, Andrew, I'll take it, but you owe me big time."

Once the phone call ended she pulled him in for a big hug, and Logan felt as if she were trying to transfer some of her confidence over to him, though that never worked.

"You'll be okay. Text me at lunchtime to tell me how it's going. I'm so proud of you, honey."

He waved goodbye to his mom as she pulled out of the drop-off area and watched her leave, until he could no longer see the sight of her car. Swallowing the lump that had settled in his throat, he looked up at the building before him and walked up the steps, trying to ignore the weird stares he got as he walked into the building. Of course they would be looking at him weirdly, he was the new kid after all. Nobody knew him, and he didn't know anyone, and maybe that was a good thing.

He walked through the building with his arms wrapped tightly around his middle, feeling like he might throw up at any moment. His legs felt like they were made of lead. He couldn't think straight, could barely even breathe, all because the fear he felt would not leave him alone.

"E-excuse m-me, I'm l-looking for Mr. Rocque," he stammered out as he reached what he assumed to be the front office.

The lady sitting at the front desk looked up from a piece of paper she had previously been reading and smiled up at him. "You must be Logan Mitchell," she said, extending her hand for him to take. He flinched at the movement at first, not expecting someone he didn't know to make contact so soon, but then remembered that he was meant to shake the offered appendage or else he would be considered rude. He did so awkwardly, nodding without a word and not making eye contact either. The pattern on the rug was rather interesting. "I'm Miss Wainwright, the counselor here."

The counselor herself was a rather pretty woman, who, if he had looked at her properly rather than just nervously glancing every now and then, he would have guessed to be around her mid-thirties. She had a calm and loving demeanour about her and her face shone whenever she gave him one of those glistening smiles.

"N-nice to meet y-you," Logan mumbled, fidgeting where he stood. He wrung his hands together as he talked, which then turned to scratching the backs of them as he became more and more anxious. "I-is Mr. R-Rocque h-here? My M-Mom c-couldn't be here w-with me; I-I hope that's o-okay."

Miss Wainwright watched him with a practiced eye for a second, noting the red marks that resulted from blunted nails. She decided not to comment. She knew drawing attention to anything more right now would be a recipe for disaster. "That's fine, honey. Mr. Rocque is actually in a meeting at the moment. Did you need to speak to him, or are you looking for your schedule?"

"M-my schedule," Logan answered. "I'm..um…" he tried to take a breath as his voice cracked slightly, to calm himself down, otherwise he was going to end up on the floor. "I'm a-also unsure of w-where I'm s-supposed to g-go..."

"I can give you your schedule, just give me a moment to print it out for you."

"T-thank you," Logan said as he peaked out the corner of his eyes, watching her leave into a small room that was connected to the office.

He stared at his watch, realizing that it was already 8:30 – he was fifteen minutes late to class. Which meant that he would have to walk in on his own. Which also meant that everyone would be looking, _staring_ , at him.

"Here you go." Miss Wainwright handed him his schedule with a smile. "I can take you to your first class if you'd like, or I can have a student take you. What would you prefer?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders. "Either is f-fine." Except it wasn't. He wanted to get out of there, and he certainly did not want another student taking him to class. He didn't want to be there; he didn't want any of this. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mom.

"I'll have another student take you, that way they can take you to your next class once it's over. How does that sound?"

"T-that's o-okay, I g-guess," he lied, eyes remaining at his feet. His eyes stung from the moisture collecting at the back of them, but he would be foolish to let her know that a simple interaction like this was bringing him close to tears.

"Can I see your schedule for a moment?"

Logan handed her his schedule, and tried to keep his breathing in check as she called someone from his first class to come over to the front office.

"Are you okay?" she asked when she was finished, taking notice of how pale he had gotten in a matter of seconds. "Do you need anything, Logan? Would you like to sit down? Some water maybe?"

The 15-year-old fought the urge to roll his eyes at her, and instead nodded his head, breathing in sharply. Of course he wasn't ok. He was in a building he never even wanted to set foot in, trying to keep himself in check and about to go out into the hallways where there were classes waiting with baited breath to chew him up and swallow him whole. "I'm o-okay, j-just...I'm nervous, I g-guess."

She smiled at him. He liked her – she was nice and she smiled a lot, but it didn't help ease his anxiety-ridden mind. "Don't worry, everything will be just fine. And don't worry, your mother has told us about everything that has happened. Your teachers are all well aware not to push you. And you can come to me anytime you feel you need to, even if you have class. There's a meeting room off to the side over there that we can go in and talk in complete privacy and confidentiality, okay? You'll fit right in."

 _Yeah, right_ , he thought. He wouldn't fit in, and he knew it. He never fit in. He was an outcast, a nobody. He had been the target of most of the bullies at his old school – was constantly made fun of by them, and ignored by everyone else. He was not the kind of person who fit in anywhere or with anyone. He was just the nerdy kid, who didn't fight back, let others take advantage of him, and who feared having any kind of social interaction with anyone.

"I h-hope so," he murmured, feigning a smile. "Thank y-you."

Before she could answer him, a boy who stood about an inch taller than him, neared them. He had dark blond hair and green eyes, but the expression on his face was unreadable. However, he seemed to have an aura of confidence and determinedness about him, which was a bit intimidating to Logan, with him being the shy and timid know-it-all.

"Hi Miss Wainwright," the boy spoke, smiling at the older woman. "I was called into the office?"

"Kendall, I'd like you to meet Logan Mitchell," she said, nodding towards the frightened brunet. "Logan, this is Kendall Knight."

"H-hi," Logan squeaked, not even trying to meet the green eyes before him. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment at the undignified sound he had just made, but didn't go any further to say or do anything else. Speaking to an adult was one thing, and something that, over time, he had come to accept that he would have to do, but speaking to another student was another matter entirely.

"Hey," Kendall said, his smile never leaving his face. "I guess you're new here? I don't think I've seen you around."

"Y-yeah, I just m-moved here, actually."

"I wanted to ask you if you could take him to his first few classes, and maybe show him around," Miss Wainwright said. "He doesn't know anyone here, and I thought it'd be nice if he had someone to show him around on his first day here."

"I can do that." Kendall grinned. "Come on, Logan. I'll take you to class."

Logan smiled timidly and started to follow the blond, but not before turning back around and saying a quick "thank you" to Miss Wainwright.

 _Today's going to suck_ , he thought, already dreading the hours that were to follow.

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 **So, this is only the first chapter. What did you guys think of it so far? We hope you all liked it. :) Thank you so much for reading.**

 **~ BigTimeRush-BTR & swagUPwindowsDOWN :)**


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